Disclaimer: I still don't own Angel the Series or Merlin.

A thousand apologies for the delay. I have no excuses other than 'RL', and so on. Anyway, on with the fic!

Thanks to my beta, deiticlast. I highly recommend his story 'S for Stop Looking At My Ass!'

The Ruins of My Kingdom to Come

By Enilas

Chapter 14: Distortions Across Liquid Glass

Much to Wesley's surprise, Lancelot had parted ways with them almost as soon as they were a safe distance from Hengist's castle. Apparently something about being all noble in regards to Guinevere, or something along those lines. Wesley hadn't paid that much attention. That did, of course, lead to the question of what would happen to make the 'Lancelot seduces Guinevere' part of the Arthur story happen. It came from something, Wesley knew.

What it came from, of course, was an open question. One that he was interested in observing, eventually. Assuming things kept going as they were supposed to. Which...

He stepped out of his thoughts and turned to look at Illyria, who was standing just next to the center of the room, completely still save for one hand – which seemed to be tracing some kind of design in the air in front of her.

Wesley watched her for several minutes, both of them silent. The design – if that's what it was – seemed to grow ever more elaborate, as Illyria's hand moved faster and farther with each movement. But he was no closer to understanding what it was that Illyria was actually doing.

"Ask, Qua'ha Xahn." Illyria told him after another few minutes of silence. "Or leave my presence." She concluded, leaving no acceptance of a third option.

"Very well." Wesley dipped his head a moment, "What is it that you're doing?"

"Time has broken from its proper path, possibilities are now askew, and the future is amok." Illyria started. "I am grasping potentialities of action unforseen and untaken."

Wesley raised an eyebrow, his eyes watching her hand move. "Such a deliciously vague answer." He commented after a moment.

"That your limited capacities cannot comprehend that which my greater senses and prowess can easily observe is of no matter to me." Illyria replied.

"I didn't say that I didn't understand what you were saying." Wesley pointed out. "Although," He granted with a slight shrug, "I accept that my merely human senses cannot achieve the level of understanding that you seem to be able to. But you are speaking of the changes in the timeline, from our actions here – you can observe how time shifts from its previous course?"

"I can observe the changes of time, which is not a linear construct, not a circular one. Time is possessed of far more dimensions than merely such conceptions." Illyria replied. "And our actions have less impact than you consider. The ripples by what you have done mean little, when set against the greater effect of my presence." Illyria dropped her hand to her side and walked a few feet to the left, cocking her head in that way she did, looking at the wall – or more likely, looking at something in the direction of the wall that only she could see.

It took Wesley a moment to follow what Illyria meant, then "You mean the vampire. It shouldn't have been here. You think your presence is what brought it here? It was drawn to your nature, your power?"

"Not in so direct a fashion as you suggest." Illyria answered. Her loquacity – which had grown ever more since they'd been stranded across time – was reaching new levels. One more failing of the shell, imprints of the old personality. From Illyria's flashes of the shell's memories – some of which she had already, others of which came in bursts at random moments – she knew of the Shell's love of knowledge, and of sharing that knowledge...and the shell's own loquaciousness – though in a sense that felt more like a brook spilling water than anything like what she'd become as.

"A stellar mass creates gravity that changes all around it, pulling objects in and changing trajectories, but the objects are not pulled or changed by the object itself – they are affected by its gravitational force." Illyria continued, drawing further on what the shell knew of the stars. "The pinpoint of a collapsed star distorts even light, bending all towards it – but it exerts no will or action to achieve it. It simply is."

Now Wesley was confused. She'd just said it wasn't her presence that drew the vampire here, and now... "So then what is it that drew the vampire here. Because you seem to be contradicting yourself." Wesley looked away from her for a moment, then returned his gaze to her, curious as to what answer she'd have.

"Drop a stone into a lake, and the water ripples, but the ripples fade. Actions by anyone, myself or you, are mere ripples across a pond. My presence in this lake of time has not drawn the vampire here. I once lived seven lives at once, across the distance and the years. By placing myself here, I have bent probabilities and impossibilities. The taint in the timeline is not of presence, but temporal-mystical essence."

Wesley said nothing for several minutes, trying to wrap his mind around what Illyria was saying. Finally...it still didn't make that much sense. But he felt as though he could understand the shape of what she was getting at, the outer edges. He'd have to think on it more. But... "What exactly does that mean, then? If you have effected time like that?"

"I have insufficient data to draw a meaningful conclusion." Illyria replied. "Your presence wears on me. Leave my chambers."

It was only after he left and was in his own room that something occurred to Wesley.

Illyria...she'd said – in so many words – 'I don't know.'

AtS-Merlin-AtS-Merlin-AtS-Merlin-AtS-Merlin-AtS-Merlin

"Morgana." The dark-haired woman turned at the sound of Arthur calling her name, an eyebrow raised.

"Yes?" She asked him, somewhat agitated. She was on her way to the basement storage room where she practiced her magic with Merlin – both of them, for separate reasons, could only vanish for so long at a time before one or the both of them would be noticed for their absence – or otherwise had something they needed to do.

Whatever Arthur had been about to say, he drew up short at Morgana's tone and expression. Last time he checked, he'd not done anything to especially annoy Morgana recently. Quickly, he tried to come up with what she might be annoyed at him for this time, but he drew a blank. Finally, he settled for a simple: "Something wrong?"

"No." Morgana replied quickly. "Just – my mind was elsewhere. What is it?"

Arthur knew there was more to it – just what had been on her mind, after all? - but if she wasn't going to volunteer it, he wasn't going to ask. As long as it didn't seem to be a real problem, prying into Morgana's business rarely worked out well for him. So he moved on from that to his question, "How is Gwen – I haven't...I haven't had a chance to speak to her since we got back."

"Its been three days Arthur." Morgana pointed out, "Why haven't you?" Things between Gwen and Arthur...neither had told her anything...but she could see...well, she wasn't entirely sure what she could see. Something. Of a sort. She put it out of her mind – that something wasn't enough that she needed to be concerned for Gwen, she was quite sure.

"I haven't seen her. I think she's been avoiding me...after...well..." Arthur trailed off a moment, "After what happened...with, Lancelot, and..." He looked away.

"She may be avoiding you – but she's not been in the castle since she got back. I've given her some time to herself." Morgana explained, "She'll be back to work in another day or so." At the expression on Arthur's face, Morgana laughed. "There are other servants in this castle, and I am capable of handling some tasks on my own well enough. I can afford to give Gwen some time away easily enough."

"Of course." Arthur agreed after a moment, "I never said you couldn't."

"Good." Morgana smiled. "Now, if there's nothing else?"

"No." Arthur turned down another hallway and left, leaving Morgana free to continue to the isolated room she practiced her magic under Merlin's guidance. There was so much she still didn't know, so much she still didn't understand. Morgana was not used to ignorance, to not understanding things. That much bothered her – even scared her, at moments, even as the process of learning exhilarated her.

The magic itself...it didn't scare her. Not anymore. But the looming, choking fear...

If Uther found out...how much anger...not just at magic, but at coming from her?...he would be beyond furious...

Morgana pushed those thoughts out of her head. There was nothing to be gained by lingering on them, and it would only bring panic and terror. She was tired of being afraid. She would control her magic, learn to control her visions...

Whatever happened, Morgana would ensure that she never had to be afraid. Some day, she would never be afraid again.

AtS-Merlin-AtS-Merlin-AtS-Merlin-AtS-Merlin-AtS-Merlin

"Have you...been able to make any progress in dealing with your dreams?" Morgana looked up as she finished her meditations, across the room towards Merlin. She didn't answer for a minute, trying to determine the best way to answer the question.

"Not really," she admitted. "Not in...controlling them, or understanding them. Nothing so clear or 'helpful' as I get once in a very long while." She laughed bitterly, "Not that even the occasional clear ones are all that clear. Still," she continued, "I have...I've been able to...have them less. A little. They're shorter now – the endless flashes. I can get a few more hours of sleep a night."

"That's good." Merlin pointed out softly. "You're making progress."

"Progress yes – but I'm inching along so...so slowly!. Its not enough Merlin! I can't-" She looked down, her voice trailing off. "I can't live like this...not in control of my mind like this..." Now she trailed off into silence. She hated how...how this...

She couldn't control this, her dreams. Thinking on them to much – they nearly drove her to tears, if she wasn't careful...

Fortunately, she was careful, here. It was only in private that the frustration reached such levels.

She looked away, then back over towards Merlin. "Sorry."

"Morgana, its going to be slow...I wish, I wish there was a way I could help you, making it happen immediately...but there's nothing that can be done. You just need to keep trying." He scoffed at his own words. "I know how unhelpful that sounds."

"No, its not very helpful." Morgana agreed. But she smiled a touch all the same. "Still – from what you said...your magic...all of it- it comes far easier to you than anything I do. I know you used magic in that little fight you had with Arthur when you first arrived in Camelot." Getting the topic away from her visions, her own problems – she just needed some time, to gather her focus and thoughts.

"I managed it enough that no one suspected me for magic during the event itself." Merlin pointed out.

"As much because no one would ever think you're using magic as anything else. You play the role of useless servant too well!" Despite her previous mood, Morgana couldn't help but smile more than a touch now.

"If I was actually useless, Arthur would have gotten rid of me before we..."

"Became friends?" Morgana offered, eyebrow raised.

"I'm not sure friends is the word-" Merling protested, raising a hand.

"It fits, Merlin." Morgana interrupted. "Arthur may be a dense idiot at times – I should know, I grew up with him – but he's good man, at the end of the day. And I do believe he count you as a friend, just as I do."

"Sometimes I agree with you about what he thinks of me. Then he sends me to muck out the stables." Merlin said. "Comes with him being a royal prat, I suppose."

"I thought he was a clotpole?"

"Well, he's both." Merlin shrugged. "Anyway, we should probably get started. We can't stay here all afternoon. Do you want to start with the candle or the rock?"